Sugar for the Bitter
by mnee
Summary: Gaara begins receiving various sweets in his locker. After throwing the first few away, it becomes a competition as to whether his secret admirer can find his favorite treat. Inspired by 'Chocolat.' NejiGaara, AU. Oneshot.


**Warnings: Yaoi, fluff. Nothing special.**

**Rating: T for mild language and slight lime.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. Maybe I could buy it off of Kishimoto, eh?**

* * *

_Sugar for the Bitter_

X

This needed to stop.

There, sitting intrusively atop his neatly stacked books, laid an apple danish. Gritting his teeth, Gaara ignored the glazed confection and retrieved the books he needed for history, promptly slamming the locker door shut.

For the past two weeks, he had been receiving these mysterious treats. After he had thrown away the candied apple, block of fudge, and colorful cupcake, he received, in addition to a chocolate-drizzled profiterole, a note that read '_I'll find your favorite._'

Naruto insisted it was cute that he had acquired a secret admirer, but Gaara found it creepy. How could it possibly be aww-worthy when someone was repeatedly breaking into his locker? The locks were built in and the office claimed that there no extras for him to switch to. He had tried to convince Naruto to share his, but the blonde refused. He wanted to _encourage _this obtrusive nuisance. Gaara even attempted to catch the culprit in the act, but they seemed to do it during class, when the redhead was trapped.

So, it seemed he was stuck with this puzzling pursuer. Sure, he could give in and eat one of the various sweets, but he wasn't about to let the enemy win.

* * *

"What is it today, Gaara?" Naruto's excited voice boomed over the catastrophic noise level of the cafeteria.

Exhaling with a sigh, the redhead closed his book – Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers – and regarded his friend with a meaningful glare. "Apple danish."

Naruto's mouth turned upwards into a ridiculous grin, hands clapping together in glee. "But you _love _apples, Gaara. Aren't you going to eat it?"

Frowning, Gaara removed a carrot from his tray of food and bit it thoughtfully.

"It's not my favorite."

Even the blonde didn't know what Gaara's favorite sweet was, or whether he even had one at all. It wasn't often that he saw his hot-tempered friend indulge in sugary items, only seeming to have a particular fondness of Queen Anne Cordial Cherries during the holiday season. Still, he wouldn't press the issue. He was curious to see how this game would end. It wasn't everyday that Gaara received such flattering attention, and despite the redhead's apparent hatred of the unknown admirer, Naruto suspected that he was thoroughly enjoying himself as well.

"Well, I'm sure Mystery Man will find it eventually."

Frown in place, Gaara massaged his temple and assaulted his friend with a dubious stare. "What makes you think it's a man?"

"That's what you want it to be, isn't it?" Naruto wiggled his brows suggestively, unnecessarily lowering his voice. "Maybe it's even you-know-who."

You-know-who. While not an evil villain in an uncannily popular children's book series, Neji Hyuga had certainly managed to put Gaara under a spell. The Hyuga, who had transferred into their school two years ago when the blonde and redhead were only freshmen, had immediately captured the latter's interest. Gaara had never found himself attracted to women, thus he was at a loss as to why the feminine man fascinated him so. Certainly, Neji was attractive, with his gossip-worthy hair that nearly reached his waist, every strand always contained in some sort of clasp. It seemed impossible for the pale teen to have a "bad hair day." No; with his perfect hairline and evident Asian genes, his hair always appeared silky smooth, free from the slightest frizz or oily dullness. Even that aside, the brunette's eyes were another feature that drew attention. Their color was the palest that Gaara had ever seen, reminding him of opal in that they appeared to be a milky white, yet were enhanced by some indistinguishable color as well.

Gaara had spent the second semester of his freshmen year in awe of the older teen, struggling to control his rampant hormones as puberty was in full swing and, in his opinion, held malicious intent. Sophomore year, the two boys shared a class – gym. Neji proved to be an incredible athlete, his long limbs allowing him to accomplish whatever damnable task the malevolent physical education teacher had in store for them. Gaara, on the other hand, was prone to embarrassing asthma attacks, his rescue inhaler always close at hand.

One particular incident remained forever ingrained in his mind. The class was playing volleyball, and Gaara's pathetic attempts to serve and bump the ball were causing his teammates to groan and whisper maliciously amongst themselves. During a break halfway through the game, Neji came up to him, a friendly smile on the lips that rarely spoke.

"Looks like you could use some help."

Gaara, skilled at keeping any form of a blush at bay, had simply scowled and cast his eyes around the room with a predatory glare – as if anyone else who dared question his athletic abilities would suffer an excruciating death. "I'm not very adept at these…" He motioned toward the net. "Activities."

Neji smirked, moving to grab a volleyball from the floor. "I can see that." He proceeded to chuck the ball at the other boy, apparently expecting him to catch it. With his slow reflexes, however, it smacked Gaara in the chest, forcing him to stumble backwards several steps. "What the hell?!" He had growled, rubbing the area the ball had hit. To add onto his numerous other issues, the pale teen was anemic and tended to bruise fairly easily.

"Shit, sorry. Are you okay?" The Hyuga appeared almost sheepish, brows knotted together in an expression of concern. Gaara had promptly issued his typical scowl of doom and stormed into the men's locker room for the rest of class.

This brought him to his current year as a junior-but-almost-senior. School was nearing a close, and Gaara had yet to have a longer conversation with Neji. The two had been chosen to be lab partners in advanced placement chemistry last semester, but the only times they talked was when discussing quantities, molarities, properties, and formulas for various chemicals and compounds. Now, Neji was about to graduate and Gaara would never see him again.

Sighing, Gaara reverted his mind back to the present and allowed his head to drop onto the lunch table. "Only a brainless gnome such as yourself would have the audacity to propose such an unrealistic scenario."

"I'm wounded, Gaara, really. My heart aches at the thought that your tender feelings of love and devotion may never be realized because you're too much of an arrogant prick."

"Oh, shut up."

And so it goes.

* * *

The next afternoon, Gaara was welcomed by an extravagant-looking slice of cake. It was chocolate, the middle filled with a soft cream, while chocolate frosting and ganache formed the topping in an intricate design. Any other person would have likely begun salivating at the very sight, but temptation was a sin that the redhead did not often frequent. For once, though, he did not throw it away, somehow feeling that it would be a tragic waste. Instead, he offered the cake to Naruto, who had previously seemed affronted at the idea of consuming treats intended for Gaara's enjoyment. Yet, at the mere scent of the rich, moist dessert, the blonde had no qualms in eating his words.

In between Naruto's near-sensual moans of "So good!" and "Fuck, _yes_," Gaara allowed his thoughts to drift to Neji. Though he wasn't incredibly partial to chocolate, he wouldn't mind seeing the other boy drenched in it. He could clearly imagine the sticky sweetness that would warm and further melt at his touch; and oh, how he would _love _to dirty that precious hair. Unfortunately, Gaara was torn from his daydream as Naruto gave him a sharp poke with his plastic fork. Looking down, he was not surprised to find that the blonde had the paper plate crumbless and appearing brand new.

"Good, was it?"

Naruto scoffed. "Good? _Good_? Gaara, as a self-proclaimed expert in the field of baking and pastry arts, I can assure you that your Mystery Man should not be taken lightly." He arched a brow and wagged his fork threateningly, similar to how a teacher might reprimand a student with their finger.

"Mhmm." Gaara just removed his novel from his bag, sternly pushing wondering thoughts from his mind and beginning to read.

* * *

Nothing.

Gaara closed his locker halfway, making sure he was, in fact, at _his _locker. He then proceeded to re-open it, staring at the contents inside. There was _nothing_. No tart, éclair, strudel, or baklava greeted him. The cold metal box was entirely empty aside from his numerous texts and notebooks, but those were to be _expected_. He scowled furiously, closing the door and turning the lock without bothering to get his history textbook. _Nothing – _was it a joke? Perhaps _nothing _was his favorite? That was weak. He walked to class feeling defeated, finding that he was eager to discuss this new development with Naruto and acquire the other boy's opinion.

When the lunch bell rang, he hastily left the classroom without his lunch in tow, hunting down Naruto in the food line.

"Greetings," his blonde friend began, piling two chicken sandwiches, a basket of fries, and a bag of Sun Chips onto his tray. "What is it today, a fruit sculpture with pineapple daisies?"

"No, you idiot," Gaara hissed, stalking so close to his friend that others in the line eyed them warily. "There's _nothing_."

Frowning, Naruto opened the mini refrigerator door to extract a green PowerAde and carton of orange juice. "Nothing?" He distractedly questioned, fumbling in his pocket for the appropriate change.

"Nothing," the redhead repeated, continuing to follow Naruto as he moved toward their lunch table. "Just my books."

"Well, that's odd."

"No shit."

Smirk. "You seem worried."

"I'm not _worried_.. I just…" Gaara let out a frustrated sigh and groan combination, tugging at the ends of his trim-needing hair. "Do you think he's given up?"

"Probably. It was bound to happen, seeing as you were such a picky bastard." Naruto shrugged, shoveling a handful of fries into his mouth.

Gaara's lips parted, expression one of mixed horror and anguish. Naruto hurriedly pat him on the wrist, laughing uneasily. "I'm _joking_, Gaara. Maybe he's just trying to rile you up so that you finally eat the next one."

"You think?"

"Sure, why not? Just wait, you'll probably have an entire New York cheesecake in there tomorrow."

* * *

Naruto was wrong.

In fact, Naruto was wrong for nine days in a row. For nine whole days, Gaara opened his locker to find no delectable desserts waiting for him. He would stupidly get up his hopes, wishing in the far recesses of his mind that he might find _anything ­_– a simple M&M, at least – but always disappointed in the end. Was it just a passing infatuation? The game seemed to have little purpose if he ate a sweet that wasn't even his favorite. Noticeably gloomier than usual, Gaara's history teacher had even asked if the boy was suffering too much stress from school or experiencing trouble at home. A fool,Gaara thought of the man. As if he would share his inner turmoil with a servant to their corrupt public school system.

After a week, Gaara forced himself to accept that the competition was over. He had won, shouldn't he be happy? He no longer had to worry about someone invading his personal space every day; no longer had to waste food that could surely have gone to a far better cause. But he _wasn't _happy – hardly. He felt defeated; a champion who had won by default. There was no pride in his success, only the miserable thought that he had successfully driven away the only person in his high school career to be even remotely interested in him. As such, by the tenth day, he dreaded the visit to his locker. He hated to be disappointed so many times in such a short period of time. Thankfully, there was only little over a month left of school and soon, he wouldn't have to face his locker at all.

But for now, sadly, the trip was necessary, as attempting to put all of his books into his bag at once would undoubtedly send him to a chiropractor. He walked as slowly as possible, wishing to postpone the event for as long as he could without remaining completely still. By the time he reached the familiar grey metal and white-numbered black lock, the hallway was empty and he was the lone soul present. With an exaggerated, haggard sigh, Gaara entered his combination and pulled the locker door open. He slipped his back pack off of one shoulder, balancing the bottom on his knee as he unzipped it and removed his literature book and notepad. When he reached up to push them into their normal slots, however, he found himself facing… well, himself. Atop his books sat a small, square mirror, plain save for a black plastic frame to protect it from shattering. He had seen many like it in convenience stores and the like.

Really, though, a mirror? What did that even mean? Forehead scrunched, Gaara continued to stare at his own reflection, a puzzled frown tugging his lips downward. Then, he blinked. He could have sworn he had just seen something else. And sure enough, a dark shadow appeared behind his image in the mirror. Confused, he began to turn but swiftly became rooted to the ground as the shadow began to take shape. A shape with long, dark hair, and near-white eyes. Gaara dropped his books. The other strap of his back pack began to slide down, the bag eventually escaping his arm and joining the texts on the floor. He felt a strong hand on his shoulder, long, dexterous fingers gently turning him around.

Neji.

Gaara blinked rapidly, even shaking his head slightly as if the person standing before him were merely a hallucination. When the tall teen's form remained, he stilled his befuddled head and licked his lips helplessly. "You." It was all he could manage, and it seemed to take all of his strength to muster the one-syllable word.

"Yes," Neji replied simply. "Me."

Eyes narrowing, the redhead began looking around. Was this some sort of prank? A painfully cruel joke?

"Gaara.."

His eyes snapped back to the brunette before him, surprised to hear his own name coming out of the other's mouth. They had never truly addressed each other before, the practice unnecessary when they hardly spoke to each other.

Neji seemed to be slightly uncomfortable, the hand whose touch still burned on Gaara's skin now tugging at the collar of his shirt. "I can't believe you didn't eat that cake," He blurted after a moment.

Gaara was completely baffled. Neji, his secret admirer? His Mystery Man? He paled at the realization that Naruto had been right. Then, understanding that the Hyuga was awaiting an explanation, he bit his lip. "I.. don't like chocolate much. Not by itself, anyway."

"Oh."

Indeed, this wasn't how he had expected his confrontation with his semi-stalker to go. Then again, he hadn't expected the person to be Neji Hyuga, of all people. "Why..?" He began, letting the question linger awkwardly. Given the situation, the question didn't exactly require specifics anyway.

"Sophomore year. Gym." A pause, and Gaara nearly did a double take upon noticing the flush rising on the Hyuga's cheeks. "I've liked you for a long time, Gaara."

"I.." Gaara unconsciously clutched at the fabric of his shirt, feeling his heart beating faster than the time Naruto's pet tarantula had mysteriously disappeared from its tank. Neji, his longtime crush, was _confessing _to him. Him! Gaara Sabaku, the guy who scowled when you smiled and laughed when you cried. His eyes closed for a moment, and he took a deep breath.

"I've liked you too," He finally said, silently cursing his stupid, monotone voice.

A cocky grin slowly slid onto the Hyuga's face. "Was I right, then?" At Gaara's blank expression, he motioned toward the mirror. "Am I your favorite?"

Snorting, Gaara crossed his arms over his chest. "You wish."

"Yes." Suddenly, Neji's face was _far _too close to his own, and wait, what was happening? His back was rapidly shoved against the row of lockers, the brunette's agile hands pinning his wrists to his sides. "Something like that."

What the hell? The guy had been blushing like a virgin school girl not even a minute ago, and now he was some sexual predator! Gaara squirmed, face beginning to redden as it so often did when he completely and utterly lacked control. "What are you-"

"Shut up, you prat." Gaara's jaw abruptly slackened in shock. Neji chuckled with an accompanying sly grin, descending in for the kill. He pressed his thin lips to Gaara's plump ones, unyielding on his hold of the junior's wrists.

Gaara's annoyance at being pressed against the hard and uncomfortable lockers easily dwindled away, his mind occupied on a far more important issue at hand. Neji, kissing him. Neji, sucking his lower lip. He sighed airily, reveling in the tingling sensation that resulted from the Hyuga's gentle bites. After one last sinful nibble, the brunette kissed Gaara again, harder, tongue soon pressing insistently against the line of his closed mouth. Gaara complied, parting his lips ever so slightly and eliciting a quiet moan when Neji's tongue sidled against his own. He shifted his arms unconsciously, prompting Neji to finally release his grip on the redhead's hands. Gaara's fingers automatically found their way to the Hyuga's silky mane, seizing handfuls of the thick locks and pulling the boy's face impossibly closer.

Neji's tongue continued to ravish Gaara's sensitive cavern with unrelenting ferocity. It teasingly flicked the roof of his mouth, ran along the sides, rubbed against his teeth, and tasted his gums. The shorter boy's moans and rapid heartbeat that he could feel pounding against his chest only urged Neji on, inspiring him to procure further pleasurable sounds from his prey.

At long last, when a need for oxygen became increasingly necessary, they reluctantly separated, each boy licking the other's remaining taste from their lips.

"Next time-" Neji paused, breathing heavily, but not nearly as bad as the panting and almost wheezing Gaara. "Eat the goddamn cake."

"Idiot.." The redhead leaned his head back, seeking fresher air. He marveled at how this came to occur, and soon lowered his head again, meeting Neji's amused gaze.

"Really, what _is _your favorite?" Neji questioned, eyes flickering to Gaara's kiss-bruised lips nearly every second.

Gaara smirked.

"Peppermint."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**I had initially planned to write more, but the ending seemed "right" there (however much I mourn the lack of more Neji/Gaara fluff). There could be some sort of sequel, but I remain uncertain. Anyway, please review with your thoughts! As always, thanks for reading. ~Mnee**


End file.
